


February Fun

by TeamTHEFT



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Food Fight, Fun, Gen, Hogwarts Second Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4992409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamTHEFT/pseuds/TeamTHEFT





	February Fun

The day it happened had started like any other day. The castle had a chilled feel to the air despite the multiple warming charms that had repetitiously been cast by loyal house elves. Snowflakes had seemingly fallen as the students ate their breakfast.

Later, Lee Jordan would claim he knew nothing of the plans. As the twins’ partner in crime, no one believed him yet they felt no need to press the issue. Even Snape ceased his line of questioning when Lee adamantly protested any foreknowledge. 

Fred and George themselves admitted, years later, that they had no hand in planning the day. When the story came up, George would get a look in his eye as Fred started laughing, recalling the days’ events. 

“We didn’t really plan anything,” George told people fondly, “Everything just fell into place. The circumstances were just right.”

And so they were. Valentine’s Day had passed the week before, and after Lockhart’s horrid attempt at festivities, no one enjoyed coming to lunch in fear of more sudden decorations. 

There was something in the crisp air. A feeling of lightheartedness seemed to be peeking out from between the thick snowflakes that began their descent as classes ended for the day. By the time supper rolled around, the pine trees were heavy with the wet snow. The students cast liberal drying spells as they strolled into the dining hall, laughing at the snow-mussed hairstyles many of the girls were rocking. 

Fred and George always smiled fondly, recalling the start of the event. 

“Fred and me, we always cast spells on Ron when he wasn’t paying attention. Sometimes it was a minor babbling spell – other times, it was a clumsiness spell. He never caught on. That day, we’d decided on an impulse spell,” George would explain with a goofy grin.

“Only they missed,” Ron would point out, generally speaking through a mouth of food. 

And missed they did. 

Fred, who was already shaking slightly with suppressed laughter, missed Ron leaning back until he’d already sent off the spell. 

Instead of hitting Ron, it hit Angelina Johnson.

Angelina, who was currently listening to one of Oliver Wood’s longwinded Quidditch rants. The twins barely had a moment to realize what had happened when Angelina lifted her spoonful of mashed potatoes and flicked them at Oliver’s face. 

Two seats down, Lee – who had been waiting for Angelina to tell Oliver off – spat out his pumpkin juice all over Seamus Finnegan. Seamus’s only mistake was sitting across from Lee – a mistake he would not repeat in the near future. 

Seamus’s mood had already been off – he’d burnt off half his eyebrow again – and angrily threw a piece of bread at Lee. Lee was hunched over from laughing. 

The bread sailed over his shoulder and slammed into a Ravenclaw boy. 

By that point, Oliver had recovered enough to grab a handful of his own mashed potatoes and throw them at Angelina. Part of the potatoes ended up hitting Alicia, who shrieked at the sudden appearance of food on her clothes. 

And that was where the versions of the tale variated. Fred always swore he was the twin who jumped on the table and yelled, “FOOD FIGHT!” as George was hit in the face with a bowl of steamed vegetables, curtesy of Lee. George never stopped arguing that he was the leader in that incident, shrieking the words that brought on an all-out food war. Oliver claimed that he was the one to throw the first spoonful of potatoes at the Hufflepuffs, bringing the normally peaceful house into a violent battle to the food’s end. 

Both Ron and Harry argued over whose gravy covered steak slapped Draco Malfoy in the face first. And although it was never discussed or argued about in public, each and every Gryffindor claimed to be the student to have nailed Snape in the face with the gravy.

Within seconds of the twin’s declaration, the Gryffindor’s had magicked all the plates on their table to fling themselves at the nearest person. It took a Ravenclaw to see the faulty logic in the spell and correct it to fling the food at a person a few feet away from themselves – no Ravenclaw was hit by their own plate, thank you very much.

The Hufflepuffs worked as a team, nailing any outsider that hit one of their own with twice as much food. By the time the Slytherins jumped in, magic was all but forgotten. Hands scooped up gravy from the constantly refilling pots and slapped steaks against other faces. 

Neville’s horror-filled gasp that paused the food flinging. His expression stopped the twins and Lee in their tracks, resulting in a domino effect of frozen expressions.

There, sitting at the head table with whipped cream covering her entire face was a pissed off looking McGonagall. Everyone glanced sideways at the person next to them, trying to figure out who it was that dared hit McGonagall. Even Snape seemed slightly surprised, gravy dripping from his hair and one eyebrow raised as he regarded McGonagall with interest. 

She turned to Dumbledore, the expression never faltering. Her hands scooped up a pie resting at her elbows and she seemed to cradle it gently for a moment before slamming the pie into the old man’s face. Her expression changed from one of stern disapproval to one of intense satisfaction. 

 

And the food fight continued.

 

Had the House Elves not stopped the flow of food, the food fight may have continued for hours. Slowly, the amount of food reappearing in the pots decreased until no more appeared. The older students – especially the Ravenclaws – wasted no time in the casting of cleaning spells. Everyone cleaned themselves and their areas in no time, even the younger students catching onto the spells. As they cleaned themselves up, they quickly left the hall. No one wanted to be the one student punished for throwing food by the still stern looking McGonagall or the pissed off Snape. 

The only person who left the dining hall still covered in food was a frustrated Lockhart who, for the life of him, could not figure out a cleaning spell to remove the potatoes from his favorite robe – nor the gravy from his hair. 

 

Lockhart’s hair was greasier than Snape’s for the next two weeks.


End file.
